


Simple Courtesy

by Satelesque



Series: Appleradio Collection [3]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Bickering, Canon-Typical Violence, Didn't Know They Were Dating, First Dates, M/M, Seriously get used to that tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satelesque/pseuds/Satelesque
Summary: It's always a shame when a TV show drags on long after its plot threads have been resolved, but there's a fun and easy way to resolve that problem.  Meanwhile Alastor ponders the difference between courtesy for his sake or for others'.But first it starts with a date.
Relationships: Alastor/Lucifer Magne
Series: Appleradio Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780735
Comments: 13
Kudos: 68





	Simple Courtesy

It was a pleasant surprise the first time Lucifer set a time and date for their next meeting. Normally he preferred to show up out of the blue, not that it was a problem. Overlords of their caliber rarely needed to keep appointments, no matter how busy they were, and nobody would dare complain. Rescheduling was a mere telephone call away, if Alastor was feeling courteous.

That’s what this was. Courtesy. It gave Alastor a chance to wash his face and make sure his clothes were free of blood stains before they met outside a restaurant in Lucifer’s domain. The other patrons barely looked up when they walked in, credit to them, and the meal was almost beyond even Alastor’s reproach. Lucifer had chosen the venue well, and all in all it was a wonderful evening. Good food, good company, and a lovely chat about a recent motion picture and the plague of darkness forecast for next month.

Alastor was almost skipping by the end, strolling out the door still going on about the unexpected benefits of sharpened hearing. Lucifer was following somewhere behind, but only when Alastor turned around did he realize Lucifer was barely a foot away and still walking forward. A couple more steps and Alastor’s back hit a column in front of the restaurant. Lucifer leaned in, and the look in his eyes was far too much of a challenge for Alastor to pull away. No darting to the side, no slipping into shadows.

But all Lucifer did was stand on tiptoe and press a short, chaste kiss to his lips. It was barely a second before he pulled back, but by then that look had changed to one smug enough that Alastor would kill anyone else for aiming it at him. Worst of all, it was for good reason.

The world felt askew, like gravity had shifted and left Alastor behind, like he was looking in a mirror and everything was familiar but backwards. Questions were spinning through his mind, but he didn’t need to ask them. The confusion was written all over his face, and it only justified Lucifer’s smirk.

“Why so surprised?” Lucifer asked. “Plenty of people kiss on the first date.”

“Do they?” Alastor said, talking by habit and barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth. “Goodness, times have changed, or maybe just the place. I’ve heard more than I ever cared to of couples down here going farther than kissing on the first date. I never understood the appeal myself. Surely if one date is enough to get to know someone well enough to sleep with them, they’re too boring to bother sleeping with. Since when was this a date?” And there it was, the question circling round and round through his head until finally he blurted it out.

Lucifer’s smirk only grew wider. “Why, from the very start! We planned ahead and everything!”

Of course they had. Of course Lucifer planned it, down to the kiss and probably down to Alastor’s every last objection. He still had to make them though, if only to justify all that planning and make a hollow attempt to save face.

“Hm, but outside the restaurant? Even if times have changed, the right place for it is—“

“At your front door, right before we part? I never thought you were such a romantic! Now I understand! You were going to let me walk you home and  _ not _ teleport away the moment you decided it was dramatic enough.”

Heavy sarcasm aside, there was no denying it, so Alastor took a different tack. “Yours is closer.”

“Is that an offer?”

Anything was better than standing around arguing in front of a restaurant, especially if it might prevent a repeat. “Of course! After all, this is a date, as I’ve so recently been enlightened.”

For a moment Alastor considered offering his elbow. It’d be the gentlemanly thing to do, but the world was still settling down from its spin, and Lucifer would only pull him back off balance if given the chance. Alastor turned, skipped down the steps two at a time, and set off in what he hoped was the right direction, pointedly ignoring anyone around that might have been looking. In a few seconds Lucifer fell into step by his side, humming a cheery tune.

“So,” Lucifer said eventually, “How far are you planning to escort me?”

“Hm?”

“My front gate isn’t any more private than the restaurant, and you’re from that time when public displays were a no-no. I assume that’s what this is about.”

In part. A small part or nearly the whole, even Alastor didn’t know, so he deflected. “Personally, I think we were ahead of our time. Cameras are everywhere these days.” No doubt Vox had already gotten the message, even if he’d have no more clue what to do about it than Alastor did.

Lucifer only scoffed. “And? What’ll they do about it, write a blog post? Oh, I hope someone tries to tell Lilith behind my back! She hates that sort of lazy toadying. You should see what she did with the last one. We’re still trying to wash him out of the rug.”

“Oh?”

“’Oh?’ I offer you gratuitous slaughter, and all I get is an,  _ ‘Oh?’” _ Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about  _ your _ reputation. I’m sure you’ve seen to that well enough yourself.”

“My reputation?” Alastor said. “Of course not. There’s nothing a few broadcasts can’t fix. No, my problem is the principle of the thing.”

He should have elaborated. It was an awkward point to leave off on. Overly vague, an obvious evasion, but for now it was all he had. He could keep voicing his thoughts until he stumbled on the truth, but there were too many variables, and that truth could be even worse.

Talking a problem through had always been Alastor’s preferred solution. After all this time words came as naturally as breathing, and he could hear himself making connections almost before he thought of them. By now it worked even when he didn’t dare say the words aloud.

It  _ was _ the principle of it. A date and a kiss goodbye? How painfully, stereotypically trite, and yet he’d enjoyed it. It had been fun, and it wasn’t any less so in retrospect, even with the word “date” hovering overhead like an omen. He wasn’t so petty as to let a single word spoil a good time, but the rest? The tedious social rituals? The thought of playing along and kissing Lucifer goodbye at the gates as if it meant something? It felt like choking on sawdust.

Warping away was starting to seem more and more appealing.

But it didn’t matter. Lucifer didn’t give him a chance to do either—not elaborate or teleport—before coming to a dead stop in the middle of the path. “The principle of it, hm. The reason why?” Then he snapped his fingers in understanding and grinned ear to ear. “Oh, of course! You poor thing! All I wanted was to see you flustered, but you’re not, are you? You’re bored out of your mind and too busy playing along to realize!”

And with that—with the simultaneous, identical conclusions (it’d be worth pondering later how Lucifer had realized it as quickly as Alastor himself) the world steadied and slipped back into place. It  _ was _ boredom, too obscured by the lingering fun of dinner and bickering with Lucifer to notice at first. It was exactly the sort of playing by rules and arbitrary norms Alastor thought he’d left behind with the last of his humanity. There was no reason to follow them now and no reason to stay a moment longer than it suited him.

But for the moment, there was still fun to be had. “Tell me,” Alastor said with a grin. “What exactly did Lilith do to that poor man? Suddenly I’m dying to know.”

Lucifer opened his mouth as if to answer, but instead he took a deep breath. He reached out, wrapping a hand around Alastor’s shoulder and twining fingers through his hair. “I have a better idea. Do you trust me?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His smile sharpened. “Good. Are you ready to put on a show?”

As if there’d ever be a need to ask. “Always.”

“Then now’s the perfect time for an errand I’ve been meaning to run. Care to join me?”

The choice was simple. Lucifer had never disappointed before, not when he meant for them both to have fun. Alastor let his head be pulled down, let Lucifer press their lips together as flames rose around their feet. The magic was at once familiar and strange—the same light, wispy feeling as Alastor’s own shadows as it swirled around them and carried them away, but warm instead of cool. It was a second of blinding gold light instead of blackness, and Alastor caught a whiff of brimstone as their feet settled back on the ground. But the most pressing difference was the uncomfortable sense of displacement. It wasn’t his teleport, he didn’t know where he was, and Alastor’s senses reached out for answers.

First was the sound, the muted rustle of dozens of demons going dead still, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe. It was a sound Alastor was all too familiar with, and his smile grew wider against Lucifer's mouth.

Then there was the prickly, electric feeling of digital broadcasts, starting in the center of the room and sparking up and away from the building. A live show, Alastor realized, and the moment he and Lucifer pulled apart, a single look around confirmed it. There was a stage, a set he didn’t recognize, and a hostess staring stunned at her new guests. There was a studio audience filled with demons doing the same, some of them clearly on the verge of screaming in terror. Alastor gave them a wave and a shark-like grin as Lucifer approached the hostess’s desk.

“Well Miss Ursa, this has been a good run,” Lucifer announced, “but honestly the show’s been dragging on since the Paris arc. The writing was on the wall dear, but at least you’ll get a grand finale! Just think of the ratings! Everyone loves a show that ends well.”

With a snap of his fingers the set was on fire, towering flames that hissed and spat but didn’t go out when the sprinklers came on. The screaming started right on cue, and Lucifer had to shout to be heard over it. “Alastor, my dear, if you would do the honors!” He swept an arm toward the audience, and that was a cue Alastor could work with no matter where he was.

“I’d be thrilled!”

And it was an excellent stage. Flickering fire, dancing shadows, sparking neon, and the sprinklers still pouring down water as if a hurricane was blowing through. A sprinkler system in Hell? What sort of uptight, newly-dead sinner did it take to think that was a worthwhile investment? Alastor might have to thank them. He reached up to brush wet hair out of his eyes, then held his arms out to the sides. The air around him glowed with sigils, and the firelight twisted his shadows into writhing, sinister shapes as they raced toward the audience. One knocked the camera over as it darted to the side—unintentional but Alastor could work with it. Sound was his preferred medium anyway, and the crackling, crashing, screaming made for a wonderful palette.

But he did notice when the sparking sense of broadcast cut off, whether it was someone upstairs pulling the plug or just the cameras taking on too much water. Either way, the show was over, and Alastor made quick work of the rest of the crowd before skipping back to the stage. Lucifer still had an elbow around the terrified hostess’s neck and was prattling on about previous episodes and show direction. He all but shoved her aside as Alastor strode over.

“What do you think?” he said, and Alastor had barely opened his mouth before Lucifer cut him off. “Does announcing it on live TV mean we’re officially dating?”

It really was a wonder how utterly exasperating Lucifer could be when he wanted to. A live broadcast on their first date? How ridiculous, but it didn’t matter. Alastor knew just how quickly news could spread from having a media demon as an arch-rival. Odds were their first kiss outside the restaurant was already making the rounds. Might as well do one better and give the public a shot with studio-quality lighting and effects.

And more importantly, what did it matter what any of them thought? If there was one perk to being in Hell, it was that finally Alastor didn’t have to hide or hold back. He could do anything he liked, be as cruel or as courteous as he pleased, or flip between the two at the drop of a hat. Alastor looked up and ran a hand through his hair, then laughed as his fingers came away red.

“What do  _ I _ think? I think you can call it anything you want, and I couldn’t care less. But this has been a wonderful evening. Are you busy next Saturday?”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was a mess of trying to resolve my opposing, "Alastor seems like the superficially polite, old-fashioned sort," and, "Do I seriously think he'd give a shit about dating etiquette?" impulses. Shrug. It's still up in the air, I guess.


End file.
